Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

  With hys brycht brand hys rycht hand he of quhyppyt;

  And Thoas syne sa smayt apon the hed

  With a gret stane, quhil myxt of blud all red

  The harnys poplit furth on the brayn pan.

  Thys ilk Alesus fader, as witty man,

  Forto eschew hys sonnys fatys strang,

  Hyd hym prevely the thik woddis amang;

  Bot, fra the auld Alesus lay to de,

  And eldis vp the breth with wawland e,

  The fatale systeris set to hand onon,

  And can this ong Alesus so dispon,

  That by Evandrus wapynnys, the ilk stownd,

  He destinat was to caucht the dedis wond;

  Towart quham Pallas bownyt hass ful sone,

  And in hys renk on this wyss maid hys boyn:

  “Now grant, thou god and fader Tyberyne,

  Gude chance and forton to this hed of myne

  The quhilk I tayss apon this castyng speir,

  That it may throw Alesus body scheir;

  And on harness, cote armour and spule brycht,

  Quhilk now sa weirly schynys on on knycht,

  Sall hyng apon ane ayk fast by thi bra.”

  The god hys askyn hard as he dyd pray,

  For quhil Alesus onavisytly

  Cled with hys scheild Imaonus, hym by,

  That was to hym hys frend and fallow deir,

  Hys breist stud nakyt, but armour or geir,

  Quharin he Pallas dedly schaft ressauyt.

  Bot Lawsus, wilfull hys syde to haue savyt,

  As he that was a gret part of the ost,

  And lyst not suffir, with sik feir na bost,

  Or slauchter maid be Pallas and deray,

  At his cumpaneis suld caucht mair affray,

  Ruschit in the melle; and first in hys teyn

  Slew Abas, that gret bargane dyd sustene.

  The thikast sop or rowt of al the press,

  Thar as maist tary was, or he wald cess,

  Thys Lawsus alto sparpillyt and invadys:

  Down bettyn war the barnage of Archadyss,

  Down bettyn eik war the Hethruryanys,

  And he also, feil bodeis of Troianys,

  That war not put by Grekis to vtyrrans.

  Than all the ostis semlyt with speir and lans,

  The chiftanys all ionyt with hail poweris,

  The hyndmast wardis swarmyt al yferis;

  So thik in staill all marryt wolx the rowt,

  Oneyss mycht ony turn hys hand abowt

  To weild hys wapyn, or to schuyt a dart.

  Full douchtely Pallas on the ta part

  Inforcis hym to greif hys fays that tyde;

  Lawsus resistis on that othir syde.

  Thar agis was not far indifferent,

  And of maist semly statur, quhar he went,

  Thai war excellent of bewte baith tway;

  Bot so it stude, at fortoun, walloway,

  Wald nother suffir to hys realm resort.

  And netheless to meyt sammyn at schort,

  As into feild to preif thar hardyment,

  The governour of hevyn omnipotent

  Lyst na way thoill; for, belyve eftir this,

  To athir of thame thar dedly fatys, I wyss,

  To ane far grettar aduersar remanys,

  As heir onon doys follow vnder anys.

  Quhou that ferss Turnus has ong Pallas slane,

  For quham hys folkis makis gret dolour and mayn.

  Duryng this fervour of the bargane swa,

  The haly nymphe, clepit Iuturna,

  Hir brother Turnus dyd monyss and exhort

  To succur Lawsus, and hys folk support;

  The quhilk Turnus, as in hys spedy char

  The myd rowtis went sloppand heir and thar,

  Beheld hys ferys debatand with Pallas:

  “Lo, now is tyme to desist, and lat pass

  All sic bargane,” quod he, “cessis in hy;

  For I will set on Pallas anerly;

  Only to me, and to nane other wight,

  The victory pertenys of sik a knycht;

  Glaidly I wald hys fader stude heirby,

  This interpryss to dereyn and aspy.”

  Thus said he, and hys feris at command

  Voydit the feild, and all plane left the land.

  Than ong Pallas, seand Rutylianys

  Withdraw the feild sa swith, and rovm the planys,

  At the prowd byddyng of thar prynce and kyng,

  Amervellit full gretly of this thing,

  And farly can on Turnus to behald,

  Our all hys bustuus body, as he wald,

  Rollyng hys eyn, and all hys corps in hy

  With thrawyn luke on far begouth aspy;

  Syne movyng fordwart, with sic wordis on hie,

  To answer Turnus speche, thus carpys he:

  “Owthir now”, quod he, “for ay be lovyt I sall

  Of rych kyngly spule triumphall,

  Quhilk heir I sall rent from myne aduersar,

  Or than salbe renownyt evirmar

  Of ane excellent end moist gloryus.

  Do wa thy bost and mannance maid to ws,

  For my fader, quhom thou desyris besyde,

  Reputtis all elyke, quhou evir the chance betyde.”

  And sayand thus, amyd the plane furth startis:

  The blude congelyt abowt Archadyane hartis.

  Turnus down lepys from hys twa quhelit char,

  And bownys fast towartis his aduersar.

  Lyke as ane lyoun from the hillys hycht,

  Amyd the valle had scharply gottin a sycht

  Of sum prowd bull, with hys horn in the plane

  Addressand hym reddy to mak bargane,

  Cummys bradand on the best fast in a lyng —

  On siclyke wyss was Turnus tocummyng;

  And quhen that Pallas saw hym cum sa neir

  He mycht areke to hym a casting speir,

  Formast he bownys to the ionyng place,

  Gyf sa betyd that forton, of hir grace,

  Hys interpryss for stowt ondertakyng

  Wald help, or hym support in ony thing,

  As he that ong was, and of strenth all owt

  Na wyss compeir to Turnus stern and stowt;

  And to the gret goddis in hevyn abone

  Apon this maner prayand said he sone:

  “I the beseik, thou myghty Hercules,

  Be my faderis gestnyng, and the ilk dess

  Quhar thou strangear was ressauyt to herbry,

  Assist to me, cum in my help in hy,

  To perform this excellent fyrst iourne,

  That Turnus in the ded thraw may me se

  Bereif fra hym hys bludy armour red,

  And aldand vp the breth in the ilk sted,

  Mot with hys eyn behald me hym befor

  In hie tryumphe, with ourhand as victor.”

  Gret Hercules the ong man hard onon,

  And from the boddum of hys hart can gron,

  Hydand hys smart for rewth of Pallas yng,

  Seand the fatys wald haue hys endyng;

  And for ennoy salt terys, all invayn,

  Furth ettyng our hys chekis thyk as rayn.

  Tho Iupiter, hys curage to astabill,

  Thus to hys son spak wordys amyabill:

  “Tyll euery mortale wofull wight, perfay,

  Determyt standis the fixit lattir day;

  Ane schort and onrecoverabill term is set

  Of lyfe, quhen all most neydlyngis pay that det:

  Bot, to prolong thar fame by nobill dedis,

  Fra vertuus wark that cumys and procedis.

  Quhou mony sonnys and deir childryn,” said he,

  “Of goddis kyn, vnder Troy wallys hie

  War done to ded, and brytnyt blude and bone,

  So that amangis all otheris Sarpedon,

  My tendir get, my kyn and blude, lyis slane.

  Forsuyth also, I say the into plane,

  The fynale fayt awatis Turnus in feild,

  The dait an
d methis approchis of hys eild.”

  Of this wyss spak gret Iove to Hercules,

  And with that word, hys eyn towart the press

  On the Rutilian feild addressis he.

  And, the ilk stownd, ong Pallas lattis fle

  With mekill forss at Turnus a gret speir,

  And syne onon hys brycht brand burnyst cleir

  Hyntis furth of the scheith to mak debait.

  The schaft flaw towart Turnus, and hym smait

  Apon the schulder, abuf the gardis hie

  That rysys vmast therapon we se,

  And throw the bordour of the scheild swa persyt

  Quhill fynaly in sum deill it traversyt,

  And hurt a part of Turnus byg body.

  Than Turnus smyttyn, full of felony,

  A bustuus lance with grundyn hed ful kene,

  That lang quhile taysyt he in proper teyn,

  Leyt gyrd at Pallas, and thus wyss said he:

  “Considir ongkeir, gyf our lancis be

  Bettir of tempyr and mair penytratyve.”

  And, with the word, the schaft flaw furth belyve,

  So that the scharp poynt of the brangland speir

  Throw owt amyddis of the scheild can scheir,

  Persand sa mony platis of irne and steill,

  And sa feill plyis of bull hydis ilk deill,

  All sammyn cowchit in hys target strang,

  The bustuus strake throw all hys armour thrang,

  That styntit na thing at the fyne hawbryk,

  Quhil throu the cost thyrlyt the dedly pryk.

  Pallas, nocht schrynkand for the mortale dynt,

  Invane the hait schaft of hys wond hess hynt,

  For al togidder by the sammyn way

  The blude and sawle passys hyne bath tway.

  Apon hys wond onon he ruschis down,

  Abuf hym rang hys harness with a sovn,

  And that onfrendly erth ennymycall

  That in hys deth he suld not scryk nor call,

  As was the gyss, with bludy mowth bait he.

  Turnus, abufe hym standand, carpys on hie:

  “O he pepill of Arcaid, takis tent,

  And my wordis do reherss and present

  To Kyng Evandar, sayand hym playnly,

  That hys son Pallas to hym send haue I

  In sik array as that he hess deservyt;

  And, of my gentryss, wil he be preservit

  To all estait and honour funerall,

  With all solace pertenyng beryall

  Of tumbe and of entyrment, as efferis.

  Na lytill thyng, perfay, into thir weris

  Hes hym bycost the frendschip of Ene.”

  And sayand thus, with hys left fut hes he

  Pallas ded corps ourwelt, or euer he stent,

  And syne abowt hys sydis sone hass rent

  Hys goldyn gyrdill, pasand a gret deill,

  Quharin was gravyn craftely and weill

  Of Danavs douchteris the iniquyte,

  Quhou that the fyfty ong men, schame to se,

  War fowlly murthuryt on the first nycht,

  As thai war spowsyt to thar ladeis brycht;

  The chalmeris portyrit war bysprent with blude;

  Quhilk historeis Eurition, warkman gude,

  Had carvyt weill and wroch full craftely

  In weghty platis of the gold massy,

  Of quhais spule now is Turnus glaid,

  Ioyfull and blyth that he it conquest had.

  O manis mynd, so ignorant at all

  Of thingis tocum and chancis quhilkis may fall!

  Vpheit sone in blynd prosperyte,

  Can not be war, nor myssour hald with the!

  The tyme sall cum quhen Turnus sall, perfay,

  Hait and wary this spule and this day,

  Desyrand he mycht by for mekill thing

  That he had nevir twichit Pallas yng.

  Abowt the corps assemblit tho his feris,

  With mekill murnyng and huge plente of terys;

  Apon a scheild Pallas body thai laid,

  And bair hym of the feild, and thus thai said:

  “O Pallas, quhou gret dolour and wirschyp

  To thy fader, and all hys falloschip,

  Sall thou rendir and bryng hame,” said thai.

  “Thys was to the in weyrfar the first day,

  Quhilk first in bataill dressyt the to go;

  The ilk for ay hass the bereft tharfro!

  And, not the less, thy swerd leiffis in the planys

  Gret hepys ded of the Rutilianys.”

  The rich Magus na ranson mycht reskew,

  And preist Hemonydes, baith Eneas slew.

  Tho nane incertane rumour nor demyng,

  Bot sovyr boydword cam thar, and warnyng,

  Ontill Eneas of this gret myschance,

  Schawand quhou that his folkis stud in ballance,

  As bot in litill distans all from ded;

  The tyme requiryt forto set remeid,

  And succur Troianys quhilkis had tane the flycht.

  Than, as wod lyon, ruschit he in the fight,

  And all quham he arekis nerrest hand

  Without reskew dovn mawis with his brand;

  The bytand blaid abowt hym inveroum

  Amyd the rowtis reddis large rovm.

  Enragit and inflambit thus in ire

  Throw owt the ostis Turnus, that prowd syre,

  Quhilk had this new slauchtir maid, socht he,

  Ay prentand in his mynd befor hys e

  The gudly Pallas, was sa stowt and yng,

  And the gret gentryce of Evander kyng,

  The cheir and fest hym maid bot a stranger,

  Per ordour all thing, quhou and quhat maner

  He was ressauyt and tretit thankfully,

  Syne of hys band of frendschip and ally

  With athis sworn and interchangit handis,

  Remembryng tho his promyss and cunnandis.

  Amovit in this heit, or euer he stynt,

  Four ong men quyk he hess in handis hynt,

  That born was of the cite hecht Sulmon;

  Alsmony syne he takyn hass onon

  Bred and vpbrocht besyde the flude Vfens,

  Quham that he etlys forto send from thens

  To Pallas lykewalkis and obsequeis,

  To strow his funeral fyre of byrnand treis,

  As was the gyss, with blude of presoneris,

  Eftir the ald rytis into mortale weris.

  Syne hynt Eneas a perellus lance in hand,

  And it addressis far furth on the land

  To ane Magus, that subtell was and sle,

  And iowkit in vnder the speir hass he;

  The schaft schakand flaw furth abufe hys hed;

  And he Eneas in that sammyn sted

  Abowt the kneis grippyt humylly,

  With petuus voce syne thus begouth to cry:

  “By thy deir faderys gost I the beseik,

  And be that gud beleif quhilk thou hass eik

  Of Ascanyvs vprysyng to estait,

  Thys silly sawle of myne, sa faynt and mayt,

  Thow salf to my a son and fader deir.

  I haue a howss, rych, full of mobillis seir,

  Quharin bedelvyn lyis a gret talent,

  Or charge of fyne siluer, in veschell quent

  Forgyt and punsyt wonder craftely;

  Ane huge weght of fynast gold tharby,

  Oncuneit it, ne nevir put in wark:

  Sa thou me salf, thy pyssans is so stark,

  The Troianys glory nor thar victory

  Sall na thyng change nor dymynew tharby,

  Nor a puyr sawle, thus hyngand in ballance,

  May sik diuisioun mak nor discrepans.”

  Thus said this silly Magus, all invane,

  Quhamtill Eneas answeris thus agane:

  “Tha mony talentis of fyne siluyr and gold,

  Quhilkis thou rehersand heir befor hess told,

  Do kepe onto thi small childyr and ayris;

  Lat thame bruke weill,
I consent it be tharis.

  All interchange and ransonyng, perfay,

  In this batale Turnus hess done away,

  Now laitly slayand ong Pallas, allace!

  That rewthfull harm, and that myschews cace,

  Felys baith Ascanyus and my faderis gost,

  For thai na litill thyng tharby hess lost.”

  Thus sayand, by the helm hym grippys he

  With hys left hand, and fast as he mycht dre

  Writh down hys nek, quharin, but mair abaid,

  Hys bludy brand vp to the hyltis slaid.

  Not far thens stude Hemonydes allane,

  Prest onto Phebus and the thrynfald Dyane,

  On quhais hed wympillit holy garlandis

  With thar pendentis lyke to a mytyr standis,

  Hys habyt as the scheyn son lemand lycht,

  And all hys armour quhite and burnyst brycht;

  Quham Eneas assalyt myghtyly,

  And gan to chayss owt throw the feld in hy,

  That fleand stummyrryt and to grond went sone;

  The Troiane prynce down lowtis hym abone,

  And with hys brand hym brytnys at devyss,

  In maner of ane offerand sacryfyss.

  The large schaddow of Eneas in feild

  Dyd haill the ded corps of this preist ourheld.

  Serestus sortis vp hys armour gay,

  And on hys schuldris careit hess away,

  To hyng as trophe or syng victoriall

  Tyll Mars the god, quhilk Gradyus is call.

  Quhat douchty chiftanys of the Latyn land

  That day Eneas kyllit with hys hand.

  Ceculus, discendit of Wlcanus blude,

  And Vmbro eyk, the stalward chiftane rude,

  That cum was fra the montanys Marsyane,

  The bargane stuffis, relevand in agane.

  Bot Eneas, discend from Dardanus,

  Ganstandis thame, ful brym and furyus,

  And onto ane, hech Anxurus, in the feild

  Of strak the left arm all dovn with the scheld;

  Quhilk had maid sum gret vant, spekand prowdly,

  Wenyng that in hys sawys by and by

  Thar had bene gret effect and hardyment,

  As thocht he wald extoll in hys entent

  Hys manhed to the hevyn and starnys hie,

  And promyss to hym self, for hys bonte,

  Agit cannos hayr and lang process of eris:

  Lo, now he lyggis law, for all hys feris!

  Syne baldly with glaid curage, as I gess,

  Agane Eneas can Tarquytus dress,

  In schynand armour wonder prowd and gay,

  Of Dryope born, the nymphe or schene may,

  To Fawnus wonnyng in the woddis greyn;

  And, to recontyr Ene inflambyt in teyn,

  Kest hym selvyn; bot the tother, but feir,

  Buyr at hym mychtyly with a lang speir

  Throw owt hys scheild of payss and hawbrik fyne,

  That to the grund gan dovn hys hed declyne;

  All thocht he than full humylly hym besocht,